Revenge and Revolutions
by BestPenNameEver
Summary: Brother-sister-duo Charlie and Quincy Renfrew have just arrived at Grantham Academy situated on the outskirts of Bullworth Town. When they find out that their new school is just as tough as Bullworth Academy, they have no choice but to seek help.
1. Prologue: A Genius Never Sleeps

**Author's Note: **Hey there, its looks like you've stumbled upon one of my stories (oh-ho, clumsy little you!) and as you can see, I'm not very creative when it comes to naming things. I'll change the title later if anything more creative comes to mind. I started writing this story on a whim. I wanted to write something a) with a plot and b) about a new year in Bullworth. Now I have noticed that a long of these fics are new student at Bullworth fics so I've decided to take the less popular rival school route. I dunno but this may turn out to be a Gary/OC thing. Depends how many reviews I get _*hinthint*_. Anyway, read, review, enjoy.

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Prologue: A Genius Never Sleeps

Gary Smith paced back and forth on the flagstone steps in front of the boys' dormitory. He mumbled incoherently to himself, so low and rapid it sounded almost like buzzing. He'd been here less than three months and already he was starting to lose it. How was he expected to survive when he was surrounded by morons? And how was he expected to remain docile in these conditions? After the events at Bullworth, he could expect nothing less than reform school. After all, where else would they stick people who get expelled from the worst school in the country? But this? It was enough to drive a person insane. Of course, this place was just like Bullworth. It was jam-packed with out of control youth. It consisted of the same cliques; bloodthirsty grease balls, Aquaberry clad preps, pee-brained bullies, gorillas on steroids and scrawny, pathetic nerds. Only at Grantham Academy, students were contained. Therapists were prescribed individually to the really messed up students. Medication was distributed as needed. The teachers were competent, and students were actually reprimanded and punished for their wrongdoings.

People here were so hard to manipulate. Why? Because this reform school was actually doing a decent job of reforming the students. Well, Gary Smith was not going to be 'reformed'. No, he wasn't one of these brainless, drugged up morons. They could put him on all the medication in the world, but that wouldn't stop the cogs from turning inside his head. He was going to have his wonderful, long awaited revenge one way or another. All he needed now was another helpless puppet to help him carry out his plans.

Moments later, as if on cue, a pair of adolescents looking quite lost entered the square between the boy's and girl's dorms, heads swiveling back and forth as they took in their surroundings. _Pfft, newbies_.

The taller one, a blonde girl of about sixteen, tapped the boy accompanying her on the shoulder and pointed directly ahead from where they were standing. The boy, several inches shorter and certainly one or two years younger than the girl on his right, nodded. Then the boy's head turned abruptly, apparently catching sight of Gary. He tugged at his companion's sleeve and she turned as well, whispering something to the boy. Gary held their gaze for several seconds, grinned smugly, and waved before a burly prefect swooped from behind a stone wall, wheeling two bulging sets of luggage behind him. Gary ducked swiftly behind a garbage bin so as not to get caught ditching classes. He watched the prefect guide the two new students out of sight, probably to the headmaster's office.

Gary's lips coiled into a very snake-like grin as he relaxed against the bin. Yes, a pair of puppets would work even better for what he had in store. Jimmy Hopkins, Crabblesnitch, all of Bullworth Academy would pay. In time. First, Gary had to convince the new kids they needed his help. And after they'd been introduced to a few of the residents, that would be a piece of hypothetical cake.


	2. Chapter 1: A Place to Call Home

**Chapter 1: A Place To Call Home**

The bright yellow school bus rolled creakily through the small town of Bullworth, threatening to fall to pieces at every turn or speed bump. Charlie and Quincy Renfrew, the lone passengers inside the rusted metal deathtrap sat side by side in silence. Very few words had been exchanged for the duration of the trip, and it wasn't likely to change any time soon. Charlie Renfrew scowled, sharp, blue-green eyes focused on the blur of people and scenery outside the window. They'd passed a school a while ago called Bullworth Academy, the place the siblings had almost been sent to. Charlie could still see academy students peppering the streets of Old Bullworth Vale, wearing white polos and dark green sweaters paired with khaki slacks. Others wore diamond patterned Aquaberry vests and walked with their chests puffed out as far as they could manage without straining something. Charlie grimaced. At least she didn't have to wear one of those monkey-suits.

Charlie leaned her head against the window and sighed, unable to find entertainment from the view outside the window any longer. Who knew a three hour bus ride could be so boring? Charlie's dirty-blonde hair fell in glossy layers to her shoulders, her bangs parted on one side and swept carelessly off her forehead. Her eyes were currently filled with resentment as the turned from the window and down to the dusty bus floor. She tapped her feet together, almost muttering the words "There's no place like home". Her worn blue sneakers would soon need replacing. They were so old they should have disintegrated a long time ago, yet here they were, encompassing Charlie's feet in a comfortable (albeit, sort of itchy) embrace. Charlie sneaked a fleeting glance at her younger brother, whose face mirrored her own scornful expression, although he didn't wear it half as well.

Quincy's face was half hidden by the blue and white ball cap that flattened his messy, light brown curls against his skull, but Charlie could tell her brother was still cross with her. His normally gentle, freckled face was twisted into an expression of bitter defiance. His bright blue eyes were narrowed in resentment and his thick, dark eyebrows were knitted together into one. His strong chin protruded slightly and his lips were down turned into an ugly pout that didn't suit his young face in the least. He was well built for the age of fourteen and gaining height daily. Soon he would be as tall as his sister, though she was two years older than him. Quincy was toned, slightly muscular and broad chested. The previous summer, he'd been nothing but a short stringy kid with no muscle at all, but now he could take down his older, tougher sister with ease. His jeans were torn and dirty, his once black button-down polo was now a shade of worn gray and his sneakers were in pretty much the same condition as Charlie's.

"Are you still angry with me?" Charlie ventured delicately. When Quincy didn't respond, she prodded his arm playfully. He swatted her hand away. "Hey, Quin! Come on!"

Quincy turned to his sister, his expression dark and sullen. "We had to leave everyone thanks to you!" he snapped, finger pointed at his sister's face accusingly. "Stephanie, Pat, my friends!"

"You don't have any friends, Quin." Charlie indicated matter-of-factly. Her brother wasn't amused.

"What about Buffy?"

"Buffy is a cat."

"...Whatever, everything still sucks cause of you." he muttered despairingly.

Charlie grinned slightly. "Do you realize how much of a loser you sound like right now? Moaning and pouting like a little girl?" she teased. Then Charlie frowned. Seeing the look of sorrow on her brother's face, she couldn't help but feel a little empathetic. After all, this was partly her fault. Okay, it was _mostly_ her fault. "Look, if you want we can get you a hamster or a goldfish or something. I'm sure that's allowed at the academy. But there's no use sulking now. We've gotten ourselves-"

"You got us-"

"Okay, don't give me that, Quincy, you helped." Charlie pointed out, jabbing a finger into the boy's face. "Anyway, we made a mistake and now we have to deal with the repercussions. If that means reform school, then so be it. Besides, it's not like we can get out of it now…" she mumbled the last part.

Quincy sighed in resignation, placing his arm on the elbow rest and leaning his face against his palm. "I guess." He quickly added, "I haven't forgiven you though."

Sighing for what seemed like the billionth time that day, Charlie leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "Fair enough."

Without warning the bus came to an abrupt halt, lurching forward and sending the siblings flying out of their seats. Charlie and Quincy slammed against the seats before them, pain shooting into their scrunched faces.

"Grantham Academy!" Bellowed the grizzled bus driver at the head of the bus. "Time to get out."

The siblings hoisted themselves from the ground, muttering expletives and cursing the bus driver under their breath. They both gathered their own suitcase and rucksack before heading off the bus, shooting nasty looks at their 'chauffeur' on their way through the door. A long, winding dirt path was revealed through a thick brush of dark green, snow capped pine trees. Charlie and Quincy followed the path to the tall wrought-iron front gates. A large plaque-like sign stood beside it, and in bold, large black letters it read:

**Grantham Academy**

**Preparatory and Reform School for Troubled Youth**

The duo exchanged nervous glances.

"Apparently, we're 'troubled youth' " Charlie stated distastefully.

Quincy glared at her some more. "You're the troubled one." he accused, "I've just been dragged into this along with you."

With a roll of the eyes Charlie proceeded to gate and attempted to yank it open. She expected it to swing open easily, but instead it came forward an inch and jammed back into place, causing Charlie to pull a muscle from the unexpected weight. She tore her hand from the cold metal.

"Ow!" she cried painfully, hugging her injured arm to her chest with the other.

Quincy snickered. "Who pulls an arm trying to open a gate?"

"It's locked." Charlie stated.

"Yeah, no shit." Quincy said, sounding more like his usual self. Apparently, Charlie's discomfort had cheered him up some. Ordinarily he would have sympathized despite the stupidity of her situation, but today he had decided that any slight pain or discomfort that crossed paths with his sister was only karma. It served her right.

Charlie pulled her jacket tighter to her body, shivering slightly in the brisk winter air. She slouched against the high stone wall and kicked at the snowy ground. "I guess we just wait for someone to let us in then."

Quincy shook his head, golden curls bouncing around his speckled face. He gestured inside the gates. "Looks like someone's already coming to collect us."

Charlie turned her head curiously to see a tall, beefy senior with frighteningly large biceps approaching them. He wore a pristine black blazer underneath which a spotless white collar and mossy green tie were just visible. A silver and blue prefect badge glinted in the sparse sunlight. He marched to the entrance gates and demanded automatically, "Are you the Renfrew siblings?"

The aforementioned siblings nodded in unison. They watched as the burly prefect fumbled with a ring of assorted brass keys. Charlie couldn't imagine he had a use for all of them. Probably just thought they looked impressive. Charlie sniggered, earning a suspicious glance from the prefect.

Finally settling on an ancient, rusted skeleton key, he jammed it into the lock and wrenched the gate open. It groaned, as if it hadn't been opened in centuries. "We keep the gate locked during school hours." he informed the two, "Students are not permitted to leave until afternoon classes are finished without express permission from a teacher and or Headmaster Whitman."

Charlie and Quincy let him take their bags, and instead of waiting until the prefect had finished locking up the gate again they proceeded to the main square ahead. A large concrete fountain stood proudly at the center of the square. At its hub a tall figure, whose head was currently topped with a bright red Santa hat (probably courtesy of the students), was striking a powerful pose that suggested it was about to toss the stone football in it's left hand. Its open mouth spewed a stream of water that was currently frozen to its cold, stony lips. For a few moments the brother-sister-duo stood admiring the two tall building's on either side of them. Charlie looked straight ahead and tugged at her brother's navy blue training jacket, pointing at the great structure before them.

What the siblings assumed was the school building stood maybe twenty feet ahead of the square, casting a vast shadow across the snowy school grounds. Its broad, beige bricked walls looked as if they'd been built to detain a boatload of dangerous prisoners (which probably wasn't too far from the truth), and the frosted black-framed windows were shut as through designed to block out the yellow rays of sun attempting to break their barrier. Thick vines of dead ivy crept up the walls like they were trying to strangle the building and everything inside it. Quincy shuddered. Was this where he was supposed to learn for the next four years of his life? Sure, he wasn't the best behaved kid in the world but he certainly didn't deserve prison.

Suddenly something moved in Quincy's peripheral vision. He turned his head to what looked like the boy's dormitory to see a tall boy about Charlie's age, wearing the onyx school uniform and an unmistakable grin on his scarred face. He leaned against a short stone pillar, watching them. Quincy narrowed his eyes suspiciously and tapped his sister on the arm.

"Charlie, that creep over there is spying on us."

Charlie looked in the boy's direction, frowning. "Just ignore it, probably just some freak with a mental disorder. This place is probably chock full of 'em"

A second later the muscular prefect returned, bearing their luggage and an unpleasant grimace. The two followed the prefect out of the square, but not before Quincy sent a last fleeting glance back into the scarred boy's direction. He had vanished. Quincy's brow furrowed momentarily before he shrugged it off. Charlie was probably right, this place would be packed with freaks like that.

The prefect instructed Charlie and her younger brother simply to enter through the main doors, walk up the big staircase and into reception where they were to wait patiently to be called while he brought their luggage to their respective dorm rooms. Charlie now found herself waiting quite impatiently alongside Quincy on the least comfortable sofa she'd ever sat on. It was worse than the futon they had at home, and it had coils popping out of its cushions. Charlie shifted, scowling at the ditsy blonde receptionist who was busily chatting away on a neon pink cell phone, blatantly disregarding the existence of the two newest students. Charlie was getting pissed off.

"Eh-hem." she coughed in an attempt to catch the woman's attention. When the woman continued to ignore her, she coughed again, louder this time. "Eh-_hem._"

The receptionist's eyes darted to Charlie and her brother and without pausing her conversation, nodded to the polished wooden doors. Charlie smiled falsely and removed herself from the hard floral-patterned sofa, pulling Quincy to the doors with her. Without knocking, she turned the knob and pushed the door open and was immediately overcome by the strong scent of peppermint, chewing tobacco and something that smelled suspiciously like Old Spice cologne. Charlie winced, her nose scrunching at the unpleasant smell. Quincy pulled his shirt to his nose, stifling a cough. This went apparently unnoticed as the portly man sat at a cherry-wood desk looked up from his papers and smiled a toothy, artificial grin, gesturing for them to take a seat. His teeth were unnaturally white (probably dentures), and the way his jaw muscles resisted slightly suggested he didn't smile very often. The sparse hairs on his balding head were so white they were hardly visible and his beady little eyes were webbed with cataracts. His face drooped like a bloodhound's, tugging at the bristly mustache above his upper lip. Charlie was briefly reminded of a fat pink walrus wearing a pin-striped suit.

"Good afternoon," he spoke mechanically, "you must be the Renfrews, correct?"

"Yup." Charlie confirmed.

"Yes, good, right on time." he muttered. He pointed a sausage-like finger at Quincy and addressed him, "You must be Charlie, am I correct? I've heard quite a lot of nasty things about you, boy, though you don't quite look the type…Setting garbage cans on fire, breaking into lockers, defacing school property…" He listed these crimes disapprovingly, referring to Charlie's file.

Charlie snickered, rolling her eyes. This wasn't the first time someone had confused their names.

Quincy spoke up. "Actually, sir, I'm Quincy." he corrected, his tone slightly irritated. He jerked his thumb in Charlie's direction. "That's Charlie."

Charlie gave a little wave, smirking at the Headmaster's shocked expression.

"Oh, well, yes. Lovely name." he mumbled. "My name is Headmaster Whitman and I welcome you both to Grantham Academy, but I assure you your delinquent habits will not be tolerated here. Let me bring up your files…" He opened a grand file cabinet that matched the color of his desk, leafing through the hundreds of files until he located and yanked out the two marked 'Renfrew'. Charlie's was much bulkier than her younger brother's, and the page Whitman had previously been reading from was only the tip of the iceberg. "Ah…now, Charlie. I see you've done some very naughty things in the past. Theft, vandalism, physical violence, drug use. The list is extensive!"

Feeling mildly guilty at this, Charlie cast her eyes to the shiny hardwood floor. It wasn't fair how people, especially those in a position of authority, often judged her on her past wrongdoings. "I've made some mistakes, alright?"

Whitman nodded slowly, already running his bespectacled eyes over Quincy's significantly less extensive record. "Yes, it would appear so, or else you wouldn't be seated before me. Your brother, however, seems to be a different case." He looked up at the slouching Quincy, scanning him slowly with those tiny piggy eyes. "It says here that you rarely engaged in violent conduct, but you were expelled along with your sister and court ordered to attend Grantham for reform purposes. Why?"

Quincy opened his mouth to speak but Charlie beat him to it. "Don't you have that written down on that file somewhere, or can't you even read properly?" she asked bitterly.

Whitman grimaced. "Actually I do. I want to hear it from your brother's own mouth." he informed her sternly. "And you will not use that tone with me young lady." Charlie glared at the aged man and turned her eyes defiantly back to the floor, grumbling incoherent profanities. Whitman gestured for Quincy to speak.

"We were sort of in it together..." he said slowly, glancing at his sister. She wondered where this change of attitude had come from all of a sudden.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Quincy continued. "See, I wanted to be cool like my older sister, y'know? All bad-ass and stuff."

Whitman's eyes widened as Charlie stifled a laugh. "Mind your language, young man."

"Sure." Quincy conceded. "Anyway, I wanted to hang out with Charlie's friends, be part of the 'gang' and all that. But they said I had to do something to prove I was tough enough to hang with them. So one night I tagged along with Charlie... There was this park where they all hung out and got stoned."

"And your foster parents had no idea of the drug use that Charlie was participating in?" Whitman interjected.

"Naw, they didn't know." he lied. In fact, he'd been lying this whole time. Charlie couldn't understand why he was muddling up the details. Was he trying to cover for her?

"I see, go on." prodded Whitman.

Quincy seemed to think for a moment, probably mulling over his next words. "So...so, this one night. We got there, and everybody was completely wasted. One guy, this huge guy, bulging muscles, asked me what I was doin' there. Charlie told him I wanted to chill with them." He took a deep breath. "The guy said I looked like a wuss, but Charlie stuck up for me, so he said I could hang out if I broke into the local convenience store and stole them something. He was real intimidating, so I said I'd do it."

"Quincy-" Charlie tried to speak up, but her brother cut her off.

"We got there, and of course the door was locked, cause it was pretty late at night. So Charlie broke the glass and I climbed through one of the windows. I was in there like, ten minutes, when the sirens started. Someone saw us break in and called the cops. Charlie was calling my name and I ran for the window. Her friends had already beat it outta there. I tried to climb through, and Charlie was helping me, but by the time I got out the cops were already on us..." He paused dramatically. "They gave us a choice between reform school and juvenile hall, so..."

"So here you are at Grantham." Whitman finished, bringing Quincy's tale to an end.

"Well, it was either here or Bullworth." Charlie muttered, head hung in shame.

Mr. Whitman put the files down, leaning back and clearing his throat. He examined the two as though x-raying them. He pushed the thick, wire-framed glasses further up the ridge of his large, crooked nose. "Well, Ms. Renfrew, that may be true but I assure you Grantham has a much stricter disciplinary system than Bullworth Academy. You're lucky you landed yourself here. We will correct your behavior and send you two off as proper young members of society. We have a strict set of rules that will be followed. Break any of them and the consequences will be severe. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, quite." Charlie replied, mimicking the Headmaster's pompous accent.

Ignoring the blonde girl's disrespectful response, Whitman continued. "It appears you're both excellent students in terms of academics, all you need is someone to steer you in the right direction. Yes, I've met far worse students than you two in my day. I've remoulded them into productive members of society and I have no doubt I shall do the same with you children. Now, you are both dismissed. Your uniforms are waiting in your respective rooms, so go change immediately."

Charlie nodded brusquely, Quincy more politely, and they left the pungent office together. Outside the office lobby, Charlie immediately turned on her brother and gripped him firmly by the shoulders. "What were you thinking, lying to him like that?"

"I didn't lie..." Quincy said quietly. "I just didn't tell the complete truth."

Charlie narrowed her eyes. "Don't lie for me again, okay?"

He cast his eyes to the floor. "Well, you know what he would've done if I told him the truth. He'd come down twice as hard on you as he would on me. At least now it'll be evenly distributed."

Charlie sighed. "Look Quin...I'm sorry. I really feel guilty for what happened." She bit her lip, searching for something reassuring to say. "Quin, I swear I'll make it up to you. I got us into this, and I'm gonna get us out, I promise. But in the meantime, we have to try to survive here, together, okay?" She looked him in the eyes, and when she swiftly snatched his hat off his head and playfully ruffled his tangled hair, she detected the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Quincy nodded reluctantly, ruffling his sister's hair in exchange. He laughed. It was hard to hold a grudge against Charlie for too long, even if she did do some pretty reckless shit. Charlie grinned broadly. She loved to see her brother happy. The pouty-teenager look just didn't suit his sweet little face.

"Aw, you're so cute when you aren't all whiny." she cooed as though she were speaking to a small child or a puppy. She pinched her brother's cheeks.

Quincy slapped his sister's hand away but the faint smile still played on his lips. Suddenly, his expression turned serious. "Charlie, promise me we'll stick together here, okay? We have to do this together."

Charlie studied her brother's slightly tanned face. In that instant Quincy reminded her of a scared child, desperate to find his mother in a crowd of strangers. She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I promise." she vowed solemnly. Charlie hugged Quincy tightly to her chest, suddenly feeling as though she might cry. Clutching each other tightly, the slow realization started to sink in. The realization that they were a long way from home, their foster parents absent from their lives, in a strange new school filled with strange new people. They were now completely dependent on each other.


End file.
